


Wedding Bells

by the_sky_is_forever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Agender Character, Bigender Character, F/M, Marriage, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sky_is_forever/pseuds/the_sky_is_forever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Éponine and Combeferre are getting married. They've never been more in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Bells

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sappiest thing I’ve ever written.
> 
> Actually ‘In love with my best friends’ might be but w/e this is pretty damn sappy.
> 
> I really like bigender Grantaire (and other bigender characters) but it’s hard to write. I mainly wrote this fic to have a go at writing nonbinary and bigender characters ngl but I also adore Ferre/Ép and wanted to write their wedding sue me
> 
> Here’s a list of the genders in this fic in order of appearance if you want a place of reference to save confusion:  
> Éponine: she/her (cis)  
> Cosette: she/her (transgender)  
> Musichetta: she/her (transgender)  
> Combeferre: he/him (cis)  
> Enjolras: ey/em/eir (agender)  
> Coufeyrac: ze/zir (agender)  
> Grantaire: she/her + he/him (bigender)  
> Jehan: ne/nem/nir (agender)  
> Bahorel: they/them + he/him (bigender)  
> Feuilly: she/her + he/him (genderfluid but she/her on the day of the wedding)  
> Bossuet: he/him (transgender)  
> Joly: she/her + he/him (bigender)  
> Marius: he/him (cis)
> 
> Those who are transgender it’s not rly mentioned in the fic it’s just what I had in mind while writing them tbh like I just figured since I’m writing who’s bi, fluid, and a, I might as well stick in the trans and cis too but it’s actually not addressed at all so not rly representation sorry
> 
> I think that’s everyone sorry if I forgot anyone. if I fucked anything up send me a message and I’ll do my best to fix it!

* * *

  

Today's the day I'll make you mine

So get me to the church on time

Take my hand in this empty room

You're my girl, and I'm your groom

Come to me my sweetest friend

This is where we start again 

- [Come to me – Goo Goo Dolls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4m2R6CLkvyQ) -

 

Éponine’s never really had a reason to trust anyone. Her childhood wasn’t exactly a middle-class suburban dream. Her parents were terrible, her first boyfriend treated her like crap, and her first group of friends are now all in prison.

And yet, when she met Combeferre, there was something about him that was inherently worthy of being trusted. She tried not to – oh God, did she try – but she couldn’t help it. He was gentle, caring, and made her laugh harder than anyone she’s ever met.

The whole time she’s known him, she’s never felt pressured, never felt lied to or scared. All she has felt is love. Love and trust.

Okay, so their first date wasn’t that great, but that was the weathers fault, really, not Combeferre’s, and maybe he’s not the best at explaining his feelings, and yes, he’s awful at buying gifts, but Éponine’s never cared about that. What matters is that he tries harder for her than anyone ever has before.

He loves her.

And now Éponine’s sitting in a hotel room, in her pretty new underwear, staring at herself in the mirror.

Because she’s getting _married_.

She’s getting married to _Combeferre_.

She’s getting married to Combeferre in _five hours_.

It’s actually happening. And she’s never felt happier in her entire life.

Behind her, Cosette and Musichetta are having a whispered conversation about the fact that she seems unresponsive. She hears Cosette quietly ask Musichetta if she thinks Éponine’s freaking out internally.

“Hey, kiddo,” Musichetta says, hesitantly. “So, we can’t help but notice that you seem to be… fine?”

Éponine turns to look at them over her shoulder. “Yes?” she replies.

“Well, um, you’re getting married?” Cosette says.

“I know?” Éponine answers. “Why are we only saying things in questions?” she then asks, frowning a little.

“Because you should be freaking out!” Cosette says.

“Why?” Éponine asks. “ _I’m_ marrying _Combeferre_. Nothing is going to go wrong. We’re, like, the ultimate tag-team for this shit. We’ve got this sorted.”

“But it’s a huge commitment,” Musichetta says, sounding confused. “Even Cosette got scared and she and Marius are a Disney couple!”

“And Ferre and I aren’t?” Éponine teases. “Look, I love him, he loves me. What is there to be afraid or uncertain about?”

+

In a different room on the other side of the hotel, Combeferre is freaking the fuck out. His two best friends sit on his bed as he paces the room, watching him with matching expressions of amusement.

“What if she changes her mind?” Combeferre demands. He turns on his heel for the millionth time, and heading back across the three feet of carpet. “We all know she’s too good for me, what if she realises that?”

Courfeyrac scoffs audibly, and Combeferre rounds on them. “What?” he asks.

“You think she’s too good for you?” Courfeyrac asks.

“Of course she is! She’s amazing! She deserves the world! I can’t give her that, I can’t. I spend so much time working and not at home and I can’t- She deserves someone better than me. I-”

“Combeferre,” Courfeyrac interrupts, getting to their feet. “Éponine is a wonderful woman. She’s strong and brave and an incredibly talented author and you are so _lucky_ to have her in your life. That does not mean that she deserves better than you. You can’t really get better than you.”

“Courf, I-”

“Ferre. Do you love her?” Enjolras asks, also getting to eir feet.

“Of _course_ I love her,” Combeferre bursts out.

“Then what is the problem?” Enjolras asks. “You love her and she loves you. It doesn’t get much more picture perfect than that.”

Combeferre and Courfeyrac give em knowing looks. “Speaking from experience, Enjy?” Courfeyrac teases.

Blushing, Enjolras mumbles a, “Shut up,” but ey’s smiling.

Courfeyrac then looks back at Combeferre. “Ey’s right, you know. It really doesn’t get much more perfect than that.”

Combeferre seems to consider this for a moment, and then he says, “But what if she changes her mind?”

Courfeyrac and Enjolras groan simultaneously.

+

Whistling to herself, Grantaire wanders down the corridor in the direction of Éponine’s hotel suite. As the wedding planner, he has approximately a thousand jobs today, but there is one that is the most important: keep the bride happy. Reaching the hotel room, he finds that it’s going to be a very, very easy job.

The bride is ecstatic. Grantaire grins at her friend, who is beaming, and asks, “How are we feeling?” in a sing-song voice.

Éponine turns to look at her. “Fantastic!” she says. “Have you seen Ferre? Which tie did he go for? I like them both, if he’s wondering.”

Grantaire laughs. “No, I haven’t seen him, but I can go over and check if you want.”

“No,” Éponine says, thoughtfully, “that’s okay. I bet he goes for the black one.”

Smiling, Grantaire says, “I’ll take that bet. I reckon he’ll go for the blue one. Ladies, are you wanting in on this?” He looks over at Musichetta and Cosette, who look far more nervous that the actual bride.

“No,” Cosette says, smiling. “I don’t bet.”

Grantaire rolls his eyes at his friend. “I forgot,” she says. His phone buzzes in his pocket, so he pulls it out to look. It’s from her partner and he grins down at it.

_Ferre’s freaking out. He wants to see her. Help????_

Laughing, Grantaire texts back, _‘on my way’_ , and then shoves the phone back into her pocket. “I’m just going to go see the groom.”

“And Enjolras,” Éponine adds, winking.

“Yes, and Enjolras. What can I say? Ey looks great in a suit.” He shrugs.

Éponine hums her agreement. “You got that right.”

+

Enjolras puts eir phone back into eir pocket and says to Courfeyrac, “R’s on his way.”

“That’s good,” Courfeyrac replies, looking at Combeferre worriedly. (He’s now lying face down on the bed in just his underwear.) “Is she bringing reinforcements, or is it just her?”

Enjolras laughs and moves to sit next to Combeferre, rubbing his shoulder in a moderately comforting way. “Just R, I think. Eh, she might bring Jehan if she bumps into nem.”

By the time Grantaire arrives, Combeferre’s back to talking about how he works too much for this marriage to be enough for Éponine. “Wow,” Grantaire drawls. “It’s a real pity-party in here. Éponine’s room is much cheerier.”

Combeferre sits up instantly. “You’ve seen her? How is she? Does she look beautiful? Oh, she always looks beautiful.”

Grantaire barks a laugh and looks at Enjolras and Courfeyrac in bewilderment. “Were you this bad on our wedding day?” she asks Enjolras.

“No,” ey says. “I was worse.”

Grantaire grins. He looks back at Combeferre. “I mean, she’s in her underwear at the minute, but yes, she looks beautiful.”

“I knew it,” Combeferre says, sinking back down onto the bed. “She always does.” He sounds oddly morose about this fact.

“Why’s that a bad thing?” Grantaire asks him, curiously.

“Because she could do so much better,” Combeferre explains, staring up at the ceiling.

“Christ,” Grantaire says. “You do realise that you’re, like, perfect husband material, right? No offense, E,” she adds quickly, with a wink in Enjolras’ direction. “You’re a _nurse_ and you’re _gorgeous_ and you’re caring and smart and just generally lovely. You’re a mother’s wet dream when it comes to what she wants from her daughter’s spouse.”

“She’s right,” Courfeyrac says. “When we were dating, my mum’s literally could not have been any more proud of me for getting you.”

Combeferre rolls onto his front, burying his face in his pillow.

“Though they do like Jehan too, I guess,” Courfeyrac adds, in a musing tone of voice. “I think they’re just pleased that I got someone, really.”

Enjolras hits Courfeyrac on the arm, with a glare to match. “Not helping,” ey says in an undertone. “Combeferre you’re impeccable,” ey then says, louder. “You and Éponine are perfect for each other.”

Combeferre peaks at em. “Promise?” he asks.

“Promise,” Enjolras says.

Grantaire nods his agreement. “She’s never been so sure about anything in her life,” Grantaire tells the groom. “Oh,” he then says, suddenly. “What tie are you wearing?”

All three other people in the room look at her incredulously.

“It’s important information,” Grantaire says, defensively.

“Which does Éponine like?” Combeferre asks.

“She’d like you in any tie,” Enjolras replies, instantly.

Grantaire nods, mock gravely. “It’s true. I still need to know, though. For science.”

“You made a bet with her, didn’t you,” Combeferre says, dryly.

“That is exactly what I did,” Grantaire agrees.

Enjolras sighs.

“The blue one,” Combeferre says.

Grantaire punches the air. “Fucking knew it! It brings out your eyes.”

Combeferre laughs at her as she whips her phone out and calls Éponine. “I hope you’ve saved up because I just won our bet,” he says as soon as she picks up.

“I wanna talk to her,” Combeferre says.

Grantaire eyes him. “Ép, wanna talk to Ferre? It’s technically not breaking the rules since he can’t see you.”

“Yes please,” Éponine chimes. He can hear her smile in her voice.

After handing the phone over, Grantaire quickly leans down to give Enjolras a kiss on the cheek. “Must dash,” she says to em. “I need to go check on the flowers and make sure that Bahorel actually knows what they’ve got to say.”

Enjolras laughs, smiling up at him. “I’m sure he’s practiced,” ey says. Ey can’t be sure though. It _is_ Bahorel.

“Yeah,” Grantaire says. “They better have,” he says, darkly.

“It’s Éponine,” Enjolras says. “Bahorel loves Éponine. No one wants to see her cry.”

“You’re right.” She casts one last glance over at Combeferre, who has a soft, sappy smile on his face as he talks to his soon-to-be wife. “Catch you later. Make sure you get my phone back off him when he’s done.”

He turns to leave, but Enjolras catches his arm, pulling him back. Ey goes up on eir tip-toes to press a kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Grantaire says, with a grin. “See you in a few hours, I guess.”

Enjolras smiles, and then Grantaire really does leave the room. It’s a busy day for him.

+

The room where Éponine and Combeferre are going to get married is… hectic.

Jehan stands looking over to where Bahorel is practising their speech, pacing back and forth, while Feuilly, Bossuet, and Joly all stand together looking at the flower display, clearly not quite content about it. At least, Feuilly’s clearly not content with it. Joly and Bossuet just look like they’re doing what Feuilly thinks is best. It is usually advised to listen to Feuilly. Especially when it comes to flowers.

Grantaire comes bustling into the room then, Marius in tow – and God knows where she managed to find Marius; Jehan had given up looking for the man. Grantaire comes straight over to Jehan. “How are we doing?”

Jehan and Grantaire make one hell of a team, and their events planning company is one of the best in Paris, but this wedding is personal, so they really are feeling the strain. Despite this, Jehan just adjusts nir hold on nir clipboard and gives Grantaire a smile.

“We’re doing great,” ne says.

“Wonderful,” Grantaire replies. He looks around the room. “Oh no,” he says, looking in the direction of the tables.

“What?” Jehan asks.

“The _flowers_ ,” Grantaire says, mournfully.

“They look fine to me?” Jehan says.

“No,” Grantaire says. “ _No._ I specifically said musk mallow, not common mallow, oh God.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You’re a heathen, Jean Prouvaire.”

Grantaire stalks over to Feuilly, who’s still frowning at the roses or tulips or whatever the fuck obscure flower they might be that are decorating the archway that Combeferre and Éponine are going to tie the knot underneath.

Jehan never really understood the difference between different types of flowers. Ne just likes them when they look pretty. And these common mallows look pretty damn nice to nem. Grantaire gets it. As long as half the team has it under control then they’re fine.

Marius coughs politely to get Jehan’s attention then, and it’s a good thing that he did, because Jehan had completely forgotten that he was standing there.

“Marius,” Jehan says, “shouldn’t you be with Éponine?”

“Yes!” Marius declares. “I was trying to get there and then I got lost but Grantaire found me and brought me here. Which is not where I was trying to get, but it is quite nice in here.”

Jehan rolls nir eyes. “Come on. I’ll take you to Éponine.”

“Thank you,” Marius says, smiling beatifically. Jehan takes his hand and leads the way.

+

Éponine looks over herself in the mirror. She looks incredible, if she does say so herself. The expressions of her closest friends prove that she’s right.

Even so, she can’t resist spinning round, letting her dress float around her knees, to face them and ask, “How do I look?” (It’s her wedding day. She can fish for compliments if she wants to.)

Her friends all start to gush immediately, and she blushes pleasantly. She can’t wait to see Combeferre’s face when he sees her. She’s got a bet going with Montparnasse about whether he’ll cry or not. She maintains that he will.

+

“Ready?” Courfeyrac asks Combeferre as they stand, staring into the full-length mirror. Enjolras has left the room to go help with last-minute set-up, so it’s just the groom and his best-person.

(The three of them have an arrangement: Combeferre was best-man when Enjolras got married. Courfeyrac is best-person now that Combeferre is getting married. Enjolras will be best-person when Courfeyrac gets married. They came up with it years ago.)

Combeferre takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says, feeling utterly calm for the first time that day. “I really am.”

+

Combeferre stands at the end of the aisle, Courfeyrac by his side, Bahorel there too, and his eyes are on the door at the end of the hall, because the organ has just started to play, and any second now, the love of his life is going to walk through that door.

He knows that all his friends and family are in the pews of the church, but Éponine’s on the other side of that doorway and he can’t wait to see her.

The door opens, and he still can’t see her. She must be behind the door still. Cosette walks through, and she looks radiant in the bridesmaid dress – beautiful, pale pink material – and he hears a soft noise go through the congregation. Marius is probably crying.

Next comes Musichetta, looking just as heavenly as Cosette does in her matching dress. Éponine sure knows how to pick dresses out. Musichetta throws a wink at Joly and Bossuet as she walks down the aisle, coming to stand opposite Combeferre and Courfeyrac, by Cosette’s side.

Finally, it’s Éponine’s turn to enter.

“All rise for the entrance of the bride,” Grantaire says, from his place by the door at the end of the hallway. The congregation stands, a rumbling of feet shuffling on the floor, but everyone quickly falls silent, craning their necks to get first look at the bride.

Then, all of a sudden, there she is. She’s a vision in lace. Her dress is delicate, flawlessly white, as it hangs to her knees, the hem swishing as she walks down the aisle. She looks beautiful. She’s smiling at him as if he’s all that matters in the world, and Combeferre understands the feeling.

He’s so in love with this woman. So utterly, ridiculously, head-over-heels in love with her.

When she reaches him, she hands her bouquet over to Cosette, and then turns to face him. “Hi,” she says, quietly.

“Hi,” he replies.

“I knew you’d cry,” she then says, grinning, and Combeferre laughs, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from under his eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he tells her.

They turn to look at Bahorel, who’s eyes are a little watery, and they both grin at him as he begins his speech. His voice shakes a little with emotion at times, but it’s true and from the heart, and Combeferre and Éponine know they were right to ask him to be their minister. Plus he was already ordained, so that helped the decision.

Éponine kind of loses track of what Bahorel is saying and suddenly Combeferre’s turning to look at her, taking her hand in the room filled with people, making her feel like it’s just them on this earth. “I, Jean Combeferre, take you, Éponine Thénardier, to be my wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish, ‘till death do us part. I give to you my faithfulness, and all the love that my heart can hold.”

Éponine takes a deep breath, and gives his hands a squeeze. “I, Éponine Thénardier, take you, Jean Combeferre, to be my husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish, ‘till death do us part. I give to you all that I have and all that I will have, and I promise to love you ‘till my last breath.”

Bahorel beams at them both, and then says, “Do we have the rings?”

Courfeyrac comes forward and hands Combeferre Éponine’s ring, as Musichetta comes forward to give Éponine Combeferre’s.

Taking hold of Éponine’s left hand, Combeferre slips the ring onto her fourth finger. “With this ring, I marry you and bind my life to yours. It is a symbol of my eternal love, my everlasting friendship, and the promise of all my tomorrows.”

Éponine grins at him and takes hold of his left hand, sliding the gold band onto his finger. “I give this ring to you, my beloved, my friend, my husband. Whenever I see this ring, I will remember the cherished bond we have created here today.”

They clasp their hands together tightly, gazing into each other’s eyes, and only distantly do they hear Bahorel pronounce them husband and wife and say, “The bride and groom may kiss,” before Combeferre’s taking Éponine’s face between his hands and leaning into to press their first kiss as a married couple to her lips.

They separate to thunderous applause filling the church, and they hold hands as they turn to face their friends and family. Éponine lifts their joined hands and she lets out a cheer of joy, making Combeferre laugh and pull her closer to kiss her again. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Éponine’s wedding dress](http://www.bellasdress.com/knee-length-v-neck-sheath-column-chiffon-with-lace-destination-wedding-dress-pd5602566.html)
> 
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> 
> [Cosette and Musichetta’s bridesmaid dresses](http://www.allpromdress.co.uk/pd_5890-Chiffon-Light-Pink-Ruffles-Elegant-Affordable-2012-Bridesmaid-Dress.html)
> 
>  
> 
> For those wondering, Combeferre takes Éponine’s name, becoming Jean Thénardier, but everyone’s just gonna keep calling him Combeferre. Why did Victor Hugo have to deny us the right to knowing their first names? Why did they all have to go by their surnames? This is bullshit.
> 
> [pls listen to the song from the start of the fic it's so perfect for this pairing and just a lovely song anyway so]
> 
> I have a writing blog: theskyis-forever come say hi and leave a prompt :)  
> Also, if you enjoyed this: [buy me a coffee?](http://ko-fi.com/A831F9U)


End file.
